Redemption
by Acknowledge
Summary: If Gotham was going to fall, if life as they knew it was going to end, Claudia wanted to die with a clear conscience. The city's days were numbered, and she would do anything to earn her redemption and cleanse her soul of the burdens that haunted her. However, this new condemned Gotham had the ability to twist and taint a person beyond return, beyond forgiveness.
1. Prologue

_**PROLOGUE  
**_

* * *

"Gotham is yours, none shall interfere. Do as you please…"

A rippling explosion shook the walls and projected shrapnel spinning into the air, blasting a gaping hole straight through the steel entrance. The crowds that had congregated on the street fled, a mass of screams filling the streets.

"But start by storming Blackgate and freeing the oppressed!"

Few dared to look back, throw a fearful glance over their shoulder as they ran for their lives, to see a swarm of orange pooling out of the smoking abyss. Hundreds of prisoners were spilling out onto the street through the settling dust of the explosion, thrusting guns in the air, their chanting incoherent yet powerful. Every prisoner wore the same crazed expression that held dangerous intensity, intoxicated by the feeling of liberation. They were frenzied, high on the feeling of power they had been lavished in, after for most, many years of bitter persecution and containment.

Except one.

Deep amongst the chaos, one figure stumbled forward with the mob as it pushed its way out of the prison, being shoved and rammed into cohesion. Rather than brandishing a gun manically above their head, they gripped it close to their body, their feet dragging along the ground hesitantly. They were engulfed in the crowd, blending in with the rest of the orange jumpsuits and hidden by the towering statures of everyone else. If anyone were to notice this figure, to look close enough, they would notice that no matter how much each prisoner blended into another, there was something different with this particular one.

Hordes of prisoners now flooded the street to the horror of the citizens and reporters who had all congregated at the event. The atmosphere was palpable and the desired effect had been achieved – creating a state of crisis.

"Step forward those who will serve!"

There was a loud roar as the prisoners let out war cries, declaring their allegiance. The mood had reached an immense climax, and gunshots pierced the air as they shot into the sky in acts of dominance over the terrified people.

It was this sudden eruption of explosions, like fireworks cackling in the sky, which jolted the certain inmate who had previously been acting in a trance-like state into action.

It was that moment that Claudia Shard snapped back into reality. Failing to even notice she had been gripping the shotgun in her arms so tightly that her knuckles had started to turn white, she released one hand from the gun and clamped it over her ear. The gunshots surrounding her were deafening, yet no one else seemed to be flinching and jumping every time one banged into the air like she was, they were too overcome with adrenaline. A split-second decision was made and she dropped to a crouch holding the gun at her side and shouldered her way through the crowd. She had to use a fair amount of force to squeeze herself through the chaos but her frantic movements lead her to the edge of the mob. With one final thrust, breaking through the barrier of two men she stumbled forwards and landed on her knees, her gun clattering to the pavement as she anchored her hands down to support her fall.

Breathing erratically, she spun her head round to shoot one last look behind her before she pushed herself up, grabbing the gun on the way and took off. The sound of her feet pounding on the pavement pulsed in her ears and she felt the blood rising to her head but she urged her legs to carry her. Noticing an alley coming up ahead to her right she dodged into it and pressed herself again the cold brick, leaning her head back and panting heavily.

For years Claudia could only imagine what it would be like to step outside and inhale the fresh, pure air. Confined in a cell for most hours in the day, it was a thought that often filled her head. Yet that day had been nothing like she had ever anticipated- she had been thrust out of the familiarity of the prison into chaos and fear. This was no homecoming; she had a heavy feeling yanking in her stomach that she had been thrown out into something much worse than a life sentence in Blackgate Prison.

Gotham had changed.


	2. Chapter 1

_**CHAPTER ONE**_

* * *

Tapping her fingers tetchily on the smooth metal of the shotgun she held against her leg, Claudia stared at the silver plaque which read '36' on the dark wood door before her. It hadn't taken her long to get there – the streets further out were dead and the sparse few people who she did encounter did nothing more than stare tensely as she passed. She had felt a tight sickening feeling rising in her stomach as she traveled through the streets, engulfed by the darkness and doom that hung over the city. Not everything had changed. She could walk past buildings one after the other, all untouched and appearing normal as ever. Yet she would then pass an office building which had numerous shattered windows from one which a computer monitor was hanging out of by a wire, with its revolving door frozen eerily and shards of crushed glass carpeting the entrance.

It was a small relief when she reached the apartment building that she found it to be it to be unchanged, if anything a little unkempt. Even though she had headed there instantaneously without even really realising she had made the decision to, she had been stood outside of that particular door for several long silent minutes.

Turning round and leaning her back against the wall next to it, she let her head hang back and she stared at the ceiling. In her 24 years of life, there had been only one other time when she had felt so lost, and so scared, and that was a time she had long buried. This sudden overwhelming feeling of being a vulnerable child tormented her madly as it was a sensation she had worked on blocking out for most of her life. Yet suddenly, through the actions of some sort of terrorist, she had been thrown out of the safety and monotony of prison and into a new corrupt world. She had no life here, here Claudia Shard didn't exist – Prisoner #47823 was all she had needed to be and now the security of that identity had been ripped away. And that's why she came here, the only place she could ever think to go, in hope that not everything had changed.

It was that moment that as Claudia leant off the wall inhaling deeply, the number '36' glinted and disappeared as the door swung open. Someone immediately took a step out into the hallway through the door frame, causing Claudia to flinch backwards in shock and the person to notice her presence. What followed was a long cold silence, in which neither person let out a single breath.

Claudia stared at him, squeezing and releasing the tip of her gun in her fist. Like everything else, he had changed too and she had never expected it. In her memory the image of him she clung onto was planted solidly as a young boy in his adolescence, and he had been that for a very long time in her mind. Yet, standing, his hands balled up into tense fists by his sides, was a man. Gone was his soft round face that she had always found so innocent and instead was a sharp jawline and deep lines framing his mouth. He now stood above her, tall and toned and held a presence that she never knew he could. But the one thing that was so different from her memories of him was the way in which he looked at her, bore into her with intense eyes. Yet it was the one thing she knew would never have been the same.

There was so much to say, so much to ask and so much to explain but at that moment, Claudia could do nothing but stare up at him. She saw his sharp adams apple contract and protrude again as he swallowed, somehow finding the words to speak, slowly and carefully as if he was scared he couldn't control himself.

"I don't think you should be here."

Hearing his voice raised an unrelenting feeling in her, and tears glazed her eyes and a lump sat in her throat. For 6 excruciating long years she had lost the ability to remember his voice in her head and now he was before her and she was speaking before she could realise.

"I should be with my family," was the words she would probably think about a thousand times to come and wish she had replaced them with something better.

The way he answered so quickly without hesitation, proved even now, he was still the hurt young boy he once was. "There is no family." He spat the last word at her.

As much as his words spread like venom in her veins, she welcomed them – she deserved it and would let him say anything if it would ever ease his pain.

"Everything is changing Eden," she said with a trembling voice, as he dropped his stare to the side at hearing his name, "and I don't know what's happening but I need this, I need one more chance with you!" She had started to ramble frantically. "I'm only ever going to have this one opportunity, they're going to lock me up again! I've thought about you every day for six years, I've hated myself-"

Eden grimaced in disgust at her words, staring at her mouth wishing the filth would stop pouring out of it.

"I need to explain, I need you to forgive me!" She was shouting now in a strangled sob. "I can't live with myself, your my brother-"

It was like she lit a match and threw it into a barrel of oil. Something ignited in him, something he had been trying to control for all these years and had recently forgotten what it was like; what it was like to feel blood pulsing through your veins and aching with a scorching anger of the most dangerous kind, fueled by heartache. He caught her lingering words in her mouth as he lunged and thrust her against the wall with one crushing hand enclosing her throat. There was a clattering as her gun fell to the floor and she spluttered under his grip.

"I am not your brother." His voice was shaky and his jaw was tight. "We are not a _family_, and we never will be. A family needs parents, or have you forgotten that you've been rotting in Blackgate for _murdering _my fucking father. And as for my mother," he scoffed darkly, "well you may as well of tied that fucking rope around her god damn neck."

He jerked her away from him, and the force pushed her onto the floor, her shoulders shaking violently and tears now streaking her face.

He took one long controlled breath and dragged a hand heavily over his face, trying to regain himself. He kept his hand over his eyes for a moment.

"The city has been taken over by terrorists, people are being murdered every day." He removed his hand and looked at her. "The government is fucked and we're all being ruled by some crazy son-of-a-bitch and his army. People are being dragged from their homes and tossed out into the streets, everything they own no longer theirs to have. And for what? Liberation for scum like you?"

His voice was starting to crack with emotion now, indistinguishable between anger and pain.

"The city is crumbling and you think I give a shit about you and you need for inner peace with yourself? I won't let this happen, and I will do everything to save Gotham so this bullshit will end, and so that people like you are locked up rotting where you belong."

He turned away and glanced over his shoulder. "So do whatever you have to do to get your conscience clear Claudia, just don't ever come near hear, or me, again. There are bigger things in this fucking world, and I forgot about you a long time ago. You should do the same."

With those last, cutting words he walked away. Claudia watched him disappear down the hall and shoulder through the doors and leave her. The doors swung in his wake and there was a short moment in which the rhythmic swooshing was the only thing echoing down the hall.

And then the noise was drowned out, by a raw primal howl, dripping with the darkest of pain. Claudia clutched her knees violently close to her and surrendered to the crippling heartache, sobbing loudly and uncontrollably on the musty carpet floor.

She had found Eden, but was still no closer to heaven.


	3. Chapter 2

**WARNING: **There may be content which some may find uncomfortable or distressing. There are only suggestions of such sensitive topics in this chapter, however as the story progresses I'd like to let you know such themes may surface more. I will give particular warnings at the top of chapters which include any sensitive/distressing content I believe you should be warned about prior to reading it, though I will never include anything insensitively or anything that has no real justification to the plot. Just a friendly warning so you know if the story is for you or not!

**A/N: **Just a thank you to those who have taken the time to read the story so far, especially when the plot is only just starting to develop. It gives me the encouragement I need to sit and work through the writers block when I know what I _want_ to happen, but can't pluck the words from the garbled ideas floating around in my head to string a sentence together!

* * *

_**CHAPTER TWO **_

* * *

_It was a Sunday night and as normal a calm silence cloaked the house. The clock on the landing wall ticked softly in the darkness, unheard by those deep in their sleep. It was late and everyone had gone to bed hours ago yet sitting up in her small wooden framed bed in the pitch black of her room, was a young child. Her blonde hair was bedraggled as if she had been tossing and turning all night, and her dark eyes were deep set and tired, with a greyish hue tinting the skin under them. However she remained stiff, her knees clamped against her front, cocooned by her covers which hung around her shoulders. There was a heavy unsettling atmosphere hanging in the darkness of the small room, something thick and potent but indefinable by words. Yet moments later, there was a shift in the omnipresent mood when there was a soft, gentle rattling coming from the end of the room. A small breath hitched in the air as the door handle slowly turned._

_Holding her knees against her tiny frame so tightly that she almost couldn't breathe, she scrunched her eyes shut at the familiar noise of the bottom of the door sliding across the thick carpet, and back again as it clicked shut. She screwed her face up painfully tighter and waited, expectant and fearful of the sound that she knew came next._

_As she knew it would, the floor at the end of her bed creaked sharply and then groaned as someone slowly approached. _

_"Shh…It's past your bedtime Claudia…my little Claudia…"_

_She retracted herself even more into a ball and her feeble arms ached with the force she held herself inwards with. She buried her head into her arms and let out a muffled whimper as she felt the end of her bed lower with a heavy weight. _

_"Don't cry angel shhh…It ruins your pretty face."_

* * *

After crying on the hallway floor for what felt like hours, Claudia felt as if her soul had poured out of her with the tears that had flowed down her cheeks. It was if she was empty, a shell with nothing more to give anymore. Her throat had suddenly become so hoarse that it seized to let any sound come out of it and her eyes became so dry that they stung mildly.

Somewhere deep within her past was the last time she had let such pain ripple through her bones and clench in her chest. It was as if she had even forgotten what it was to cry, and let an unadulterated primal instinct take over. But now it was over, and she felt nothing, as if beneath her rib cage was hollow space where feeling once was.

Feeling like she wasn't governing her own movements, Claudia finally pushed herself off from the floor – something in the back of her mind telling her that Eden could be back at any moment. Even as he filled her thoughts she had no overwhelming desire to cry anymore. In fact, what little emotion she did feel was one of self-hatred. Why had she come here and done this to him? Messed his life up even more?

Not even caring to remember the shotgun laid on the floor, she willed her legs to move down the hallway. How could she be so stupid? After seven years and at the first opportunity she had she'd cracked; let herself believe her silly little fantasies had a chance of becoming reality.

She descended the stairs, a small ball of anger suddenly growing in her stomach. First at herself, at her selfish desperate actions and then, at the world she existed in. The world in which she still couldn't have the one thing she cared most about. The one thing she had always tried to protect. Her thoughts were jumbled, crashing and blending into each other. This was everything she had ever deserved. Yet then it still wasn't fair and as much as she condemned herself to it, she loathed such fate from the pit of her core.

A sudden deafening bang sent her thoughts into non-existence and her hand shot out and gripped the stairway railing instinctively. An abrupt wave of voices filled the stairwell almost being washed out by the thunderous chorus of many feet thudding against the wooden floor.

"Take what is yours!"

A sickening panic set in yet Claudia found herself rigid and unable to fathom the ability to move. The chanting was deafening now and her heart had suddenly accelerated, thumping against her chest as her fingers went stiff around the railing.

From that moment to the next thing that happened, the time that passed was a good few seconds. However it felt like she didn't even have the chance to gasp when a horde of men rounded the corner and swarmed the staircase. It was as if her senses couldn't work quick enough to register what was happening. There were shouts and booms and crashes. There was orange, orange everywhere. There were the ear-splitting blasts of guns and then screams – such shrill screams.

A heavy impact thrust into Claudia's back in the chaos, one that sent pain surging through her body. She stumbled forward from the force, causing her to lose her footing on the step and her body was hurtled down the stairs, colliding with several hard objects on the way. The momentum was unrelenting and then suddenly, not even being able to anticipate the collision, her forehead smashed into the corner of the concrete wall, slicing through the skin like a knife through butter.

She hadn't even the chance to register the unbelievable pain that surged through her skull before everything disappeared and she fell into nothingness.

* * *

It was late that night by the time Claudia roused. It was only from the intense pain that throbbed in her head that she slowly prised her eyelids apart, only to squint in recoil at both the agony she was experiencing and the glare from the light above. Lifting her arm and holding it over her eyes in an attempt to block out the light, she came to realise she was lying flat on something.

She was undoubtedly exhausted and found it an immense effort to lower her hand to her forehead and gingerly graze the skin to find the source of the pain that pulsated in her head. She flinched slightly as her fingers traced along a raised line sitting above her eyebrow, skimming along a row of uniformed staples that was keeping the skin together.

Trying desperately to remain awake to process the information, she lolled her head to the side to get a better angle of the room. In her state of fatigue it was hard to will her eyes to fully focus, but from what she could make out, from the shaggy rug on the floor, the brown leather lounge chair, the unlit stone fireplace, she was in someone's home. She had not even a second to question whose couch she was slumped on as a movement caught her eye and she focused her attention to the door, craning her neck backwards to get a view.

The door was slightly ajar and through the gap stood a man, facing the other way so only the back of him could be seen. He had dark hair and wore combat pants with black lace up boots and a tatty khaki jacket. From the way he stood and how his head jerked every so often, Claudia realised he was speaking.

"I'm finding it hard to believe why a woman would want to fight in this cause."

"Ah…" The reply came from an unseen source. It was a strong deep voice, and had a peculiar accent but what was most striking, was that it had a cold almost inhuman tone masking it. "But by the prison identification number branded across her back, we can begin to assume she is not a woman of ordinary repute."

The sentence finished with a strange, sharp mechanical hiss.

The man nodded what seemed respectfully. "I'll have her kitted up with the rest."

He stepped aside and under Claudia's intent eyes, a towering form passed by the gap in the door. The door was only open wide enough for her to catch a fleeting look at who walked by. He was a giant of man of almost unfeasible stature. The thick padded sheepskin coat he wore swayed by his knees as he took a heavy stride. Yet the thing that would of evoked a hitch in her breathing had she not been in such a weary state, was the mask that caged his face, infused with tubes and metal. There were thick plates which curved around his wide jawline and down through the middle of his bald head, holding the center-piece over his entire nose and mouth. It was all she had time to see before, with another unsettling hiss, he was gone.

The man still standing outside of the door turned around, revealing he was of a foreign descent. He leaned in the room slightly and extended a hand round the door handle. As he grasped it, for a quick fleeting moment he looked directly at Claudia with unwavering eyes, before pulling the door closed with a soft click.


End file.
